


Just Another Mark

by Twice_before_Friday



Series: Bad Things Happen (again and again and again) [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Guilt, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24136078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday
Summary: For the bad things happen square: Punctured LungMalcolm is injured while chasing after a killer.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright
Series: Bad Things Happen (again and again and again) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741687
Comments: 14
Kudos: 110





	Just Another Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to KateSamantha for not only providing me with a bingo card and betaing, but also for helping find an ending to the story!

Chasing a killer, on foot, through Central Park, is not the way Gil expected his day to end. His lungs are burning, almost as badly as his quads, as he pushes full throttle to reach where both the killer and Malcolm disappeared into the tree line only seconds ago. The thinning crowds of people, the foliage that he's racing past, the nearby sound of water — everything blurs into a distorted backdrop that Gil is barely aware of as he focuses every ounce of his attention on the break in the trees up ahead. 

With every slap of his feet on the ground, he curses himself for not being as fit as he once was, curses Malcolm for refusing to stay in the car like Gil shouted for him to do when he first began this foot pursuit, curses the killer for leading them on this wild goose chase in the first place.

The man they're chasing, Stephan Glaser, is a brutal killer, with an MO of beating his victims to death with a savagery that Gil has rarely ever encountered in his decades on the force. Blessed with a strong stomach, it's not often that Gil has difficulties visiting a crime scene or perusing crime scene photos afterwards, but with this case, even _he_ has had to turn away a time or two. And so, seeing Malcolm vanish into the foliage only steps behind Glaser causes his heart rate to jack up even higher, hammering against his ribs painfully as he struggles to gain some ground.

He estimates he's only about 30 seconds behind as he breaks the treeline, crashing through branches and undergrowth to eventually emerge into a small clearing.

Half a minute, and Malcolm is already on the ground as Glaser lands kick after powerful kick, his heavy boot smashing into Malcolm's stomach, his chest, his face. Malcolm is in the process of curling into a tight ball, trying to protect his head and vital organs, as Gil comes flying into the small space, but even over the sound of his own heaving breaths and the crunch of the branches underfoot, Gil can hear the crack of bone snapping as Glaser's boot stomps down on Malcolm's ribcage.

Though shocked at the sight before him, it takes less than two seconds for Gil to assess the situation.

A little over a second more to draw and shoot, Glaser dropping like a sack of bricks to the damp grass behind Malcolm's shaking form.

Between the blast of the gunshot and the blood rushing in his ears, it takes a few seconds — time Gil uses to confirm that Glaser is completely immobilized — before he can hear the pained whimper from where Malcolm's still lying with his head tucked into his knees. 

As soon as he hears it, Gil rushes over to Bright and drops to his knees in front of him. He calls out as gently as he can manage while still taking heaving gulps of air to catch his breath, "Bright, are you okay?"

His hands hover uselessly above the kid, afraid to make contact. Afraid of hurting him more than he already is. Gil only witnessed the last few seconds of the attack, but Malcolm's bloodstained and agonized face is already burned into his memory and he knows that he's going to have nightmares about it for months to come. 

Glaser wasn't just aiming to stop Malcolm from following; he was actively trying to kill him. There's not a doubt in Gil's mind that if he'd have been another 30 seconds later, he would have arrived to find Malcolm dead on the ground where he lay, his body crushed and his head stomped until grey matter leaked out and coalesced with the ever-expanding pools of blood, just like all of their other victims. As it stands, Gil is already worried about the damage that's been inflicted, worried he might be too late.

"Kid, talk to me. Please," Gil says as he lightly lays a hand on Malcolm's shoulder and tries to ignore the way his heart shatters when Malcolm flinches and cries out at the contact. "Bright, it's Gil, you're safe."

"Gil?" Malcolm wheezes. It's quiet and coarse and Gil can hear that something is wrong, even from just a single word.

"Yeah, kid, it's me," Gil keeps a comforting hand on Malcolm as he calls in their location and requests an ambulance for an officer down. He keeps the call brief, tersely providing what information he can and hanging up before the dispatcher has even finished speaking.

Tucking his phone safely into his pocket, he focuses his full attention on Malcolm, who is slowly starting to uncurl from the fetal position in which he's locked himself. Gil's jaw drops and he can't stop the shocked gasp that escapes as he gets his first good look at the profiler. 

He's a fucking mess.

The right side of his face is already swelling so badly that he can barely open his eye, which might just be for the best, Gil thinks, as numerous lacerations on his cheek and forehead release a steady flow of blood down his face. The tread of Glaser's boot scraped off a large swath of skin near the top of Malcolm's cheekbone, and the flap hangs barely attached just below his eye, leaving the exposed wound gaping and raw.

"Jesus," Gil breathes out, frozen in place as Malcolm tries to push himself up. He's pulled into action as Malcolm sucks in a sharp breath at the movement and then drops to the ground on his back, groaning and wrapping an arm around his chest.

Gil hears the change in Malcolm's breathing immediately. It's like he's sucking in tiny morsels of air but then can't exhale enough to make room for his next breath. The way he's grasping at his chest, along with the steady flow of tears that are trailing through the blood streaking his face, screams to Gil just how much pain Malcolm is in.

"Shit. Malcolm, hang in there, the ambulance is coming," Gil pleads, grasping one of Malcolm's hands in his own, knowing he's woefully ill-equipped to deal with whatever injury is stealing Bright's breath away. He's never felt more helpless in his life, as he kneels next to the man who's been like a son to him the last 20 years, and watches him slowly suffocate. 

The fear in Malcolm's eyes as he tries, and fails, to regulate his breathing, sends a sharp jolt of pain shooting through Gil's heart. Even as a boy, when Malcolm would wake up from a nightmare screaming and thrashing, he never looked quite this terrified. Gil can't hold him now like he did back then, but he squeezes Malcolm's hand just a little bit tighter to let him know he's not alone.

It's only a matter of minutes — interminable minutes of listening to the piercing wheeze of Malcolm's increasingly laboured breathing — before he hears Dani and JT calling out for them both. Gil sags in relief, knowing help for Malcolm will follow closely behind his two detectives.

"Over here!" his voice cracks around the swell of emotions in his chest. "We need an ambulance, now!"

JT barrels through the trees, gun raised as he quickly surveys the scene, then lowers his weapon when he realizes the killer is no longer a threat. "Ambulance just arrived, Dani's waiting on the other side of the trees to lead them here." He moves over to Glaser and checks for a pulse, finally holstering his weapon when he finds the man is dead.

Gil is distantly aware of JT's movements but is too occupied with Malcolm to pay him any mind. Even in the dim light of the setting sun, Gil can make out a bluish tint to Malcolm's lips that makes him worry about whether or not the medics are going to make it in time. From the sounds of it, Bright is struggling to get anything more than the tiniest gasps of breath, and the crushing grip that he had on Gil's hand only moments ago is starting to ease.

Gil leans in, soothingly brushing bloodsoaked hair back from Malcolm's face. "Hang in there, Bright. Help's almost here."

Dropping to Malcolm's other side, JT curses under his breath as his eyes rake over Malcolm's battered form, and Gil glances up long enough to see a look of fear flash over the man's face before he can school it into his usual scowl. Gil watches as JT's hand instinctively slips to Malcolm's wrist, taking his pulse as he calmly says, "Hey bro, gonna need you to keep your eyes open for me."

Shifting his gaze back to Malcolm, he sees the kid fighting to keep his eyes open, eyelids drifting shut almost immediately after he forces them open. A part of Gil wants to tell him to close his eyes and rest, to let the kid take a break for once in his life, but he's terrified that if Malcolm closes his eyes right now, he may never open them again.

JT still has his fingers on Malcolm's wrist, but Gil doesn't need to feel what he can so clearly see. There's a fluttering pulse in the base of Malcolm's throat, barely visible through the blood splattered on his skin, that keeps drawing Gil's eye. It's fast — far too fast — but it's been getting weaker as the minutes pass, and Gil is certain it isn't because of the fading light. He's losing him.

"Malcolm, please, just hold on a little bit longer. The ambulance is almost here," Gil begs, and, almost as if summoned, Gil can hear Dani leading the medics through the trees to the small clearing. Gil and JT both back up, standing amongst the trees in order to give the medics enough room to maneuver. Dani's hand shoots to her mouth as she sees Malcolm, but she's quick to join Gil and JT, staying out of the way of the paramedics.

One of the medics casts a look towards Glaser, but JT's gruff, "He's dead, man. Focus on our guy," has both of the paramedics settling in around Malcolm.

Gil's sinks into a bit of a daze as he provides the paramedics with a quick breakdown of what happened, vaguely aware that he might be in shock and doing his best to shake himself out of it. Malcolm needs him clearheaded right now, and he's not going to let him down again.

The recitation of vital statistics, the pronouncement of a traumatic pneumothorax, the discussion of whether or not to intubate — all of it washes over Gil like ice water, freezing him to his core. But when the paramedics decide that they need to move — now — Gil jumps into action.

There's no room in the small space for the stretcher, so Malcolm has to be carried out to where the medics left it on the other side of the trees. Gil is by their side in an instant, hauling Malcolm as carefully as he can into his arms and pushing to his feet in a feat of strength that he's sure will surprise him later.

Though one of the paramedics protests, they both gather their equipment and follow in Gil's wake as he pushes through the trees, focusing his attention on ensuring Malcolm's feet don't hit the trees, so that he doesn't focus on the way his head is lolling against Gil's shoulder, or the fact that the horrid gasping noise that Gil fears he'll never be able to forget has suddenly stopped altogether. 

He jogs the rest of the way, laying Malcolm down as gently as he can and then standing there uselessly as one of the medics places an ambu bag over Malcolm's nose and mouth and begins to force air into his lungs, since he's no longer breathing for himself. As the paramedics rush away, taking the only family he has left, he feels Dani's hand on his arm, tugging him towards wherever JT and Dani had parked the SUV.

"Gil," Dani calls, and her tone tells him it's not the first time she's called his name. "Gil, come on." 

JT steps in front of him and waits until Gil's eyes finally seem to focus on him before he says, "Go with Dani to the hospital. I'll stay and process the scene." Obviously waiting for a sign of recognition before he continues, Gil nods once and JT presses on, "I need your gun, boss."

The apology is clear, even through the grimace, but Gil can't seem to force out the words that it's fine, that he knows the process. Everything starts to feel like he's moving through a thick fog after that, leaving him with hazy memories of handing over his gun, of letting Dani lead him with a gentle touch to the SUV, of an endless ride to the hospital.

He doesn't remember getting there, but when he finally comes back to himself he's in the hospital waiting room, stiffly seated in an uncomfortable chair with a blanket around his shoulders and Bright's blood dried crusty and flaking on his hands. When he looks up, Dani is just walking into the room, offering Gil a small smile as she sits beside him.

"Welcome back," she teases lightly, though he can see the concern written clearly across her face. Thankfully, instead of asking if he's okay, she delves right into what he needs to know. "Apparently he has a few broken ribs and one of them punctured his lung. They're working on him now, but the nurse says they have him stabilized."

Gil doesn't even realize just how tense he is until he hears the word 'stabilized' and slumps in his chair, relief flooding through his body and easing the tension in his muscles. He nearly collapses, dropping his face into his hands as he folds himself almost in half. It feels like it's the first full breath he's taken since he ran into that clearing.

It's a long and painful wait until they get any more information. Gil eventually goes to wash the blood from his hands, then spends the rest of his time alternating between pacing the waiting room and slumping in exhaustion as they wait for news. Dani keeps in constant contact with JT, the two detectives updating each other on Bright's condition and the crime scene, respectively.

When a nurse finally comes to tell them that they can see Malcolm, Gil is wound so tightly that he's worried he might just snap in half. One deep breath and then they're following the nurse at a quick pace, ending in a curtained-off area where Malcolm is lying pale and still against the stiff sheets below him.

His face is swollen and beginning to saturate with deep blues and purples around the angry reds of his stretched out skin. The various lacerations marring his face have been closed with a combination of stitches and butterfly strips, or just covered in gauze. However, it's the tube coming from the side of Malcolm's chest that draws Gil's attention.

The nurse notices where his gaze has landed and quietly explains that the chest tube will only be in for a few days and assures them both that it looks far worse than it actually is. She leaves them with the caution to keep the visit short, and suddenly it's like the whole world has narrowed down into the space of a 6x8 curtained off room.

When Gil finally drags his eyes away from the tube and back up to Malcolm's face, he's met with one glazed-over blue eye staring back at him and he exhales suddenly, relieved beyond measure to see him awake. Stumbling forward to sit on the side of Malcolm's bed, he grasps Malcolm's hand and swallows a few times around the lump in his throat before he can ask, "Hey, kid, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Malcolm rasps, "I've been better."

"You gave us a bit of a scare back there," Dani says, leaning on the foot of the bed, and Gil's eyebrows shoot up at how much of an understatement that is. "Maybe don't do that again, yeah?"

"Deal," Malcolm whispers and Gil can see the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth even as his eyes begin to drift shut. He imagines they must have him on some pretty potent painkillers and is impressed that he's woken up at all. But seeing him awake has done wonders to quell Gil's fears, and he can't help but be just a little thankful for Malcolm's built up resistance to medications; he's not sure he could have handled waiting all night to know he was truly alright.

Once Malcolm's breathing levels out and Gil is confident he's asleep, he turns to Dani. "You should head home, Powell. I'll stay with him tonight. Keep me apprised of the investigation."

"Sure thing, boss. I'll swing by in the morning," Dani says after a moment, clearly deciding that Gil won't be swayed in his decision to stay the night. "Let us know if you need anything."

He offers a sad smile, grateful for her understanding. He knows he should be giving a statement right away, but Dani obviously understands that some things are more important than procedure. With a quick pat to his shoulder, Dani leaves Gil alone with only Malcolm's sleeping form and his gnawing guilt for company.

Eventually Gil moves from his perch on the bed, dragging the small plastic chair from the corner over to the bedside. He takes hold of Malcolm's hand once again, knowing full well it's for his own comfort more than Malcolm's, who is so deep in a painkiller-induced sleep that Gil's fairly sure he isn't even aware that Gil is there.

He knows he'll have to call Jessica soon. He'll have to explain how Malcolm was, once again, hurt on his watch. He'll have to endure the look of anger and disappointment in Jessica's eyes when she sweeps into the room, though he knows she'll be quick to conceal it. She's made it abundantly clear how she feels about Gil allowing Malcolm on these cases, and this will be just another mark against him. Even knowing this, he'll still be the one to make the call. He owes her that much.

But right now, he needs to allow himself some time to sit and watch the gentle rise and fall of Malcolm's chest. He knows that no amount of watching the kid breathing peacefully will ever erase the memory of Malcolm's lifeless form as Gil lowered him onto that stretcher, but it does start to ease the tug of the knot that's been twisting inside of him for the last few hours. The relief may be more than he deserves, but Gil can't bear the thought of looking away. And so he stays by Malcolm's side, watching him breathe, until he can finally work up the courage to make the phone call that he always dreads.

"Jessica," Gil forces out. "It's Malcolm…"


End file.
